Fleur and Bill
by WhamBamWrites
Summary: (MAJOR HARRY POTTER SPOILERS) After the Seconding Wizarding War, Fleur and Bill Weasley, newlyweds, are left to deal with personal losses and the trials of coupled life in the aftermath of the most devastating event in history. Reviews are greatly appreciated!
1. Chapter 1: Morning

Fleur and Bill

 **Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and series belong to J.K. Rowling.**

The scent of salty lavender filling the air was enough to put a smile on the flawless face of Fleur Weasley, formerly Fleur Delacour. That was in the past though. That was in the past along with the Second Wizarding War. Just a month ago, it had ended. Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the one who was destined to defeat him. . . Voldemort, all along. Now there were so many lost. . . Fleur's brother-in-law was just that for so little time before being taken by the Death Eaters. But she couldn't think of that now. Now, when her sweet Bill was needing her most. She had to be responsible, mature, and everything in between.

Pancakes. Pancakes, butterbeer, raspberry jam spread over buttery toast, and a full omelet of tomatoes, sausage, steak, lettuce, onions and potatoes. Bill's favorite. Taking out her rosewood wand, she muttered a charm and it floated effortlessly to the Elmwood table sitting beside the bay window, where a vase of roses stood tall and bright in the sunlight. "Bill, honey, breakfast is ready!" She said, unwrapping the baby blue apron from around her. "Bill?" She asked again when there was no response. No sound, even.

Of course, he was a heavy sleeper. That's all it was, probably. But with the recent ending of the war, Fleur's throat tightened and she grasped her wand, muttering a French curse under her breath. "Bill?" She walked into the curtained room. " _Lumos."_ With a simple light spell, the room lit up for about four feet ahead. The room was dark, the velvet curtains blocking the sweet, refreshing sun. Perfect. There was no one in the room. Not even Bill. _Well if my husband is not here, where is he?_ Fleur thought angrily. With a mutter and a tap of her wand, the light at the tip of it went out and she was rushing down the halls of Shell Cottage again.

No one in the living room, no one in the two restrooms, no one in the first spare room, where Griphook the goblin had stayed before his betrayal and death. . . and she checked the other room, where Hermione Granger, a friend of another friend, and the savior of the Wizarding World himself, Harry Potter, had stayed when recovering.

Nowhere. Then, suddenly, she saw him relaxing on the terrace, feet propped on the rail, a pipe in his mouth. Fleur smiled, finding Bill at last, and went over to him in the chair beside him.

* * *

"Why hello, Bill." Fleur kissed his cheek. "Breakfast is waiting downstairs." She looked at the gorgeous sea in front of us.

"Thanks sweetie. I was just looking, I guess." His voice was airy. His wild blue eyes distant but still strong.

"Looking at what, Bill?"

"The sea." He shrugged, dropping the pipe in his lap. "Fred and George always liked to do all sorts of pranks with water. I remember once, it was Ginny's first birthday, and Mom was so proud that they had at last done something responsible; cooked for their younger sibling. I think she was just _so_ desperate, because I tried to tell her this wouldn't end well, but she was just so happy. And then we ate the cupcakes they made. They were great. Until we were all barfing water for about thirty minutes, and by then, Fred and George had made their escape!" He laughed half-halfheartedly. Fleur pursed her lips and stayed silent. "We were by the beach." He added, as if it was vital to the story.

It was true that Fleur had many fond memories of the brothers together. She enjoyed their little shop of jokes and the gift she received: a peacock feather purse with the inside of white fur. To this day, Fleur used that expensive, fancy purse. She thought upon with bittersweet memory of the prank they once pulled on her. She loved, more than anything, the joy on Bill's face when he was with them. When he was with his entire, giant, happy family on any occasion. Bill was the happiest she had seen him ever, despite the disruption near the end. For how happy his family made him, she was saddened and joyed, because he was happy, but not because of her.

"Bill—" Fleur reached out her hand, but Bill grabbed it and quickly kissed it, standing and walking back inside.

"Just a weird memory, Fleur. I guess I'll see you at the breakfast table?"

"Of course—Bill." Fleur scratched her silver blonde hair and followed him to the breakfast table, where they had a surprisingly dull conversation about the weather, and how nice the new robe Fleur had bought was. Bill refused to speak of any memories. None. When Fleur mentioned Gringotts, he choked on his water. Deeply unamused, Fleur changed the subject. "I was thinking of inviting Hermione, Harry, Luna, Neville. . . uh, Ginny and Ron." His eyes only flashed slightly. Family was a tough subject for now. "And Gabrielle. My sister. Bill, do you remember her?"

"How could I forget her? She was adorable and she reminded me of you! How could I not like her?" And he kissed her after taking the last sip of his butterbeer. "Don't forget Charlie and my parents. George if he feels up to it." Fleur didn't believe it. He had flipped a switch. Completely flipped a switch. He had gone from a distant, avoiding, sad shell of the man she married and now he seemed excited again. Huh. Well, you can't understand everything.

* * *

A few hours later, Bill was reading the _Daily Prophet_ while Fleur drank tea beside the ocean. _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy has suffered greatly following the loss of not one, but two of the last headmasters, both killed by Voldemort or followers of he. We also must say that the building took a monstrous beating during the Battle of Hogwarts, where Voldemort and his Death Eaters raided and mostly destroyed the iconic school, followed by giants and other creatures. Among the dead: Lavender Brown, 18, Colin Creevy, 16, Nymphadora Lupin, 25, Remus Lupin, 38, Severus Snape, 38, Fred Weasley, 20, Macy Arks, 24, Vivian Woodley, 16, Tyler Woodley, 16, and many, many more._ Bill read page fifteen with watery eyes. They all seemed too young. His brother. His brother had left too many behind.

When Bill had finished the paper, he cheerfully went to Fleur, who was almost asleep in a sweet chair made by her father, Monsieur, back in France. Bill poked her and saw her wide blue eyes flash open in mixed enragement and amusement. "Oh, Bill. . . I had fallen asleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I was just reading the _Daily_ _Prophet_ and it seems at Hogwarts they need a new Defense against the Dark Arts professor. Since the passing of Professor Snape." Tired, Fleur looked over at him.

"Were you good at Defense against the Dark Arts? At Beauxbatons, the education was the finest. I excelled at charms and dueling. . . in fact, there was an entire club and class on it that I was the top student in! Oh, we should visit France, Bill!" The conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

"Oh, sure, but uh, should I take the job, Fleur? I mean, I don't have a job, so, my other options are working for the Improper Use of Magic as a spell registrar. It's less pay and I work 16 hours, and then the other two is a bartender or dishwasher at Leaky Cauldron, and those are even worse. Ugh, I don't have time! It's so—"

Fleur leaned over and kissed him plain out flat, both tired of him complaining and tired of him talking. His arm fell on the back of her neck, laying on a blanket of soft, silky silver hair. Pushing herself away, Fleur smiled at Bill up-close at his kind green eyes. "Take whatever job you want Bill. I married you because I'd go anywhere with you. Through anything. So just have fun." She kissed his forehead and lazily, but very poised still, pulled down her robe and walked inside, swinging her head back to Bill before leaving completely. "Speaking of the Leaky Cauldron, want a drink? We could invite Hermione and Ron."

"That'd be great. Why can't Harry and Ginny come?"

"Harry's trying to get a job as an auror, and Ginny is um, with George, and your Mum and Dad, and the rest of the family." Fleur scratched her chin. Bill's brow furrowed.

He didn't want to go see them. He was angry that they didn't protect his little brother, and he was never someone to work in groups to fix problems. He worked in duos, or alone. And he had a partner now: Fleur. Fleur was going to help him through this, and more importantly, he was going to help himself. "That's fine, Fleur. Tell them I send my love. I-We-I'll see you in twenty then? For Leaky Cauldron?" He leaped from the chair, shrugging off Fleur's ashamed look.

"Yes. Hermione and Ron will be there when we get there, so, wear something nice." She smirked, brushing the hair from her shoulder and prancing down the hall to her room. Bill kept himself upright by reminding himself that his brother was also out in the town as well. Bill needed to be at peace.

* * *

Fleur wore a button-tab sleeved shirt, the color of a blond almond with a Puritan collar and a Byzantium colored trumpet skirt flouncing around her knees. A pearly necklace and pearl earrings made beautifully, and a delicate cerise pink beaded bracelet wrapped around her wrist. She was stunning, and her Veela charm made Bill feel like his heart had stopped.

Bill was handsome in a slim black button-down sport shirt and navy blue round cut biker pants. His flaming hair was in a bun low on his head. Bill stuffed his hands in his pockets, but seeing Fleur coming down the hall, he wrapped an arm around her and whispered in her ear, "You ready?"

"Of course, darling."

And in an instant, they had vanished with the swirl of a wand.

* * *

A second later, they were in the middle of a spicy smelling bar, loud and overcrowding with people. Beams everywhere holding up the bird infested wooden ceiling. People laughed and cried and puked and talked and shouted and screamed from every corner of the room, and while Bill, caught by surprise, expected this, the charming Fleur was _horrified._

Finally, after a few seconds of shouting and grumbling, they were able to force their way to the bar. And then there Ron and Hermione were, not even noticing anyone else. Smiling and holding hands together, drinking one butterbeer with two separate straws. Ron said something and Hermione giggled. Then, she kissed him, and Bill hiccupped. His little brother had a girlfriend. Wow. Well, so did his little sister, which was worse. But still, Bill didn't have anyone to take care of anymore. . . Fleur basically took care of him.

Maybe, he thought, he needed to speak with Fleur about getting a new little person in the family to care for. Maybe.


	2. Chapter 2: The Leaky Cauldron

Ron kissed Hermione's cheek and went off to the bathroom, giving Fleur and Bill an opportunity to appear beside her. At once, her brown eyes widened in surprise and she choked on her butterbeer, caught off guard by their sneaky appearance. "Oh my! What are you doing here, Bill?" She looked straight past Fleur to Bill.

They had no idea what she meant. "Fleur asked to meet you and Ron here. I was hoping," Bill cleared his throat. "I was hoping that I could clear the air between my brother and I." There was an unspoken air of sadness hanging around.

"Bill, no. No, no, no, no, no. Ron is going to be quite angry with you, after what you did. You bloody didn't come to the funeral of your own wedding." She threw her arms up. Hermione was angry at him herself. It was such a cowardly thing to do. While everyone was hurting. He should've been there to protect. Instead he abandoned. "I thought it was Hannah Abbot calling me." Hermione explained. "I was in the middle of creating a very advanced potion, and while I got the call, it sounded like Hannah, and I wasn't paying much attention. Please just go, though, Bill and Fleur. Ron will want to speak with you in a more intimate setting, so he knows you mean it. And he would cause a public scene otherwise. Please, just go." Tears were now about to fall from Hermione's eyes, so without even saying hello to everyone, Bill and Fleur attached themselves to each other and apparated out of the Leaky Cauldron.

"I just don't understand, Fleur! Why does my brother have to be such an lazy sod." Fleur cringed at his insult. "Yes. Yes, I regret every day that I didn't attend my own brother's funeral, but I was hurting, Fleur. I was. And now they won't take me back. I've lost my family, Fleur." Defeated, Bill slumped onto the sofa. Fleur sat next to him and let him lay his head on her lap.

"You know, I've been thinking that maybe we should take them on a family trip with us." Fleur combed his hair with her fingers.

He outright laughed. "Take them on a vacation?" He snorted. "They all hate me, Fleur. Of we went it would just be silent and awkward. Plus, where would we go?"

Fleur had thought about this with her friends Roselle, Eloise, and Luna Lovegood about travelling, and there were so many places Fleur now wanted to go. She and Luna had already planned to go "snowboarding" a popular muggle sport, with Hermione Granger, in the cold mountains of Switzerland next Winter. There was an amazing wizard hotel and spa called Sigurd & Julie's nestled into one of the mountains. It was said to be a palace of ice. She also wanted to go to the America, and the cold Canada, and the warm islands of St. Martin and St. John. So when Bill asked the question, she grinned.

"Lisbon, Portugal. My Aunt Veronique is dear friends with the Queen of Magical Portugal, Queen Jacinta Graciana Morgado of Portugal. Kind but poor organized and terrible towards children, she is. I know Molly and Arthur would love to see the place, and Charlie would just die for it. We could get there five days before them and enjoy it ourselves." She was excited, like it or not.

"Thought of this a lot, haven't you know, huh?"

"Quite often."

Bill did not need to hear that. He groaned, scratching his chin. "Ugh. Fleur, I feel as though I make you miserable." It was Fleur's time to laugh.

"Bill dear, nobody in the world could make me as happy as you do. You light up my world." Casually, she kissed him. "Don't ever think differently." She put her hand on his chest, letting herself feel the up and down thump of her chest.

Then, in that moment, Bill decided that he needed to talk with Fleur about his previous thoughts. Now they were caught up in serious conversation. Why stop? "Fleur," he sighed, looking down at her gorgeous stone blue eyes. "I want to start a family." He confessed, and it was a huge weight off his chest.

Except that it was tossed off his chest and onto Fleur's. Suddenly she felt extremely sick. Children didn't come into her plan until years from now. "Bill. . . I'm not saying I'm opposed to children. I love them. They're adorable," she sat up, "I just wanted to be with you first. Really get married to you before we push someone else into our lives."

Right then an idea struck Bill. He grinned broadly. "Fleur! Fleur, we can have a perfect wedding again! We can renew our vows! A wonderful wedding, without Death Eaters showing up to destroy everything. We'll have our first dance as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."

"Don't change the subject, Bill." She was cross. "I don't know how to process this."

"Forget I mentioned it, dear. You're stressing yourself out." He combed her hair with his warm fingers. "We have an eternity to figure this out and I'm tired."

"Bill—" Fleur pouted when Bill kissed the bridge of her nose and stood, thumping over to their bedroom. A few minutes later, the couple had changed into nightclothes and had fell fast asleep. At least Bill had. Fleur was anxious and tossed and turned madly. She realized she had not eaten anything in hours, and walked slowly down the dark hallway, using her wand to light up the hall and bring food to her.

Sausage, buttered corn-on-the-cob, cherry flavored yogurt, cold pancakes and a four-pack of sugar quills. She cleared out their food supple in twenty minutes.

After she had done that, Fleur hurled it all up, in the road, outside their home. "W-What—" A confused Fleur muttered, drowsy and ill. Eventually, she fell asleep in the beachside cold, and off feeling buzzing in her stomach.

Bill awoke to an empty bed. Immediately, he smelled food and sweets and smiled, assuming his beloved wife was cooking, just as she had been the last night. Happy, Bill hopped out of bed and tied his dark brown robe around him, and travelled down the hall. . . to where it looked as if a loose raccoon had had the time of its life. Food was everywhere, and that was where the scent came from. "Alright, Fleur. . . we can talk about that later." Bill mumbled under his breath, picking up the remnants of a sugar quill. Still searching, he went down to the porch, and scanned the beach in front: clear. Now panicking, he began to shout her name through the halls, running up and down everywhere. "FLEUR! FLEUR! FLEUR!" He was losing his mind. Bill busted through the door and looked out.

There, was a single weakly folded letter. He opened it. The letter was sent from Ron.

 _Dear Bill, I came to your home late into the night, tricked by Hermione, into coming to your home for forgiveness. Instead, I was greeted by your wife, ill, just feet from your doorstep, laying beside her own sick. Rather than use time to get you, Hermione sent her off to St. Mungo's to be looked at, and I explained everything in this letter. Meet us here once you read this, please meet us._

 _Ron W._

Not only did he hate the formal style that made him think he was a colleague of Ron Weasley instead of his brother, but Bill's face had gone grey upon the description of his wife. What if she was fatally ill? What if she was dying? What if by the time he got there he'd be too late?!

It took Bill less than a second to vanish to St. Mungo's Hospital with the flick of his wand.

As soon as he got there, Bill asked the first person he saw wearing a lime green robe and he grabbed their sleeve, staring into the young boy with dull, dishwater brown colored eyes, holding a clipboard in one hand and a stubby wand in the other.

"Where is Fleur Isabelle Delcour Weasley?" His voice was icy calm. The boy shook in his fist. "My wife." The boy, a name tag saying "Joey P." "Please tell me where I will find her, Joey." Bill released the young man's sleeve for him to check his clipboard.

"Uh. . . I have a Fleur Weasley who was checked in at 3 AM by Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. We put her on the fifth floor, East Wing." Joey had a shaky voice. His hair was long and red as well, choppily framing his triangle shaped head.

"What's on the fifth floor? What's wrong with her?" Bill was agitated.

"On the fifth floor is our visitor section, but the East Wing is the nursery and Madison Silverman Ward. She's in the Madison S. Ward." Joey blinked an astounding number of times during the sentence.

"Ok, thanks. What's wrong with her?" That was the big question. Bill braced to hear the worst.

"Oh, it's not much, really." Bill let out a sigh. "She's simply pregnant."

Bill hiccupped.


	3. Chapter 3: Surprise!

Dr. Bruno Payne talked in a sluggish manner. Walked slowly, talked slowly, and even looked around slowly. His complete lack of speed made Bill's current anxious position even worse. _She's pregnant?_ _Fleur?_ Sure, maybe a small part of him wanted it, but another part of him wanted to run. He was just stuffing his pockets in deep thought when suddenly the elevator door opened and they were in Fleur's room.

She was laughing softly with her brother-in-law Ron, and he made cheesy jokes while Hermione said she needed rest. That was before everyone saw Bill enter the room. Fleur's lips mouthed his name like a pale phantom. Hermione brushed her hands on her pink mesh skirt, worry obvious on her face. Ron just stared, drooling. "Would you all like to give Mr. Bill and Ms. Fleur a moment of privacy?" Dr. Payne drawled. They left quickly and quietly out of the black glass door. When the white room was empty except for the doctor and the couple, Bill sat beside Fleur immediately, breathing her in and caressing her arm.

"So, let's start with what we know, shall we?" Dr. Payne began, flipping through a clipboard. "Less than one month pregnant. Yes, good to know early on. We know it's expected June. We can't give any more details on the date."

"Is that all you know Dr. . . Hayne?" Fleur asked.

"Dr. Payne." He drawled slowly. "We know more. The rest that we know is not good though."

The tension in the room was enough to break a window. Fleur's voice was cracked as she spoke, her hand automatically going to her stomach. "W-What's the bad news?" Her knuckles turned white. When the doctor avoided her eyesight, she swallowed deeply. "Tell it then. Or will I have to ask for someone else."

"Calm down, darling." Bill brushed her hair with his fingers.

"Ok. Your reaction, Fleur, was not a good sign. Were you able to sleep?" Dr. Payne asked, his black eyes on his paper.

"I couldn't sleep, no. But that's not bad is it?"

"Not exactly, no." Dr. Payne slurred. "The way you consumed food in a sleepwalk-like-trance and then vomited it up as waste, only to collapse. . . well, it very much tired your immune system. Then, while you were unconscious, I think that a Kneezyrow—a mosquito than can be known to carry muggle diseases into the wizarding world—bit your arm, extracting into your blood a muggle disease we have yet to identify. Until you show symptoms, I'm afraid there's nothing we can do except hope it doesn't spread to the child." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry. Do you need some time alone?"

Bill nodded and Fleur murmured. Dr. Payne left. They turned to each other. "Oh my goodness, you scared me _so_ much. I—Fleur—I just didn't even—" Fleur put a finger to his lip, ending his speech.

"I love you."

"Yes, but know. . . ugh, why is this scaring me so much?" Bill drove a hand through his hair. "I knew this day would come soon. I mean the part about the kid, not the muggle disease. Never thought about that." Bill sighed. "My dad reads a lot about muggle things. Among them, he's come up upon their diseases. And without magic providing quick cures, it's horrible. Horrible, Fleur." He shuddered.

"Bill you're scaring me." Fleur retreated.

"No. I just—" He had never looked so defeated in his life. "I know wizards and healers can help way better than anyone, but still, Fleur. . ." He hesitantly placed his hand over Fleur's still flat belly. "We have so much more on the line now." A tear fell down Fleur's cheek.

"I'm going to be fine." The raggedness of her voice told Bill not to push the argument any farther. "Go talk with your family. They need to hear something from you." She smiled weakly. Bill kissed her forehead and pushed himself to the ground. He walked out the door, finding a close Ron and Hermione whispering on the bench beside the door.

When Bill came out, like a soldier of war they stood to him, eyes wide. Bill's mouth quivered, knowing that the words were easier to say than what he had so angrily pushed to the back of his mind. But he didn't even want to utter the mention that his perfect Fleur was ill. . . and nobody knew how to help her. So instead, Ron understood, and he dived toward his brother in a hug.

"Bill. . . I'm so sorry." He said.

"Me too." Bill sighed. "I should've come to Fred's funeral. I regretted it since that very day. I should've been there for all of you and I wasn't. I'm not worthy of the title big brother." Bill clasped around Ron, hoping to squeeze every fault of his own into a forgiving embrace.

Ron laughed softly in his ear. "You're always there, Bill. I understand if you just needed time to be alone. We all did.".

"I'll be in the car. You both need privacy." Hermione bowed her head and the two brothers heard her heels clank down the quiet hallway. When she was gone the brothers tore apart gently and sat down on the bench again, each lost in thoughts.

When they realized they realized that they're troubles were going unheard of, Bill and Ron released it into the open at the exact same moment. "I'm so worried about Fleur—" Bill had a look of utter shock on his face. What he thought he had just could not have been true. But what if it was? His brother—? As Ron looked bewildered and red-faced, Bill's lit up with glee.

"Dear brother, brother, brother," he clicked his tongue. "Did I just hear you say that you're _in love with Hermione Jean Granger_." With each word Bill's voice lifted into an even higher tune. Ron closed his eyes as he nodded "yes." The squeal released from Bill's mouth was like the excited scream of Ginny when she got her Hogwarts letter so, so long ago. "You've got to tell her, Ron! Please, please, please, tell her! Oh, that would be amazing!" His thought from earlier came back into his mind like a tsunami. Before Ron could speak, Bill was at it again. "Fleur and I were talking earlier about renewing our vows. You know, in a ceremony not overrun by Death Eaters and Dementors. That was awful. And I would be so honored if my do over wedding was your. . . wedding." Bill melted a little.

"Stop!" Ron exclaimed before Bill could start planning the exact color of the flowers and who would sit with who and if Hermione should wear Aunt Muriel's tiara instead of Fleur this time around. "I'm not going to tell her. At least yet." Bill looked disappointed.

"Ron, if you're too afraid to do it, she'll never know."

"Yeah, but it's been a month that we've been dating. No one says 'I love you' after a month of dating. What kind of love-deprived, heart-drooling, puppy-eyed, teddy-stuffer does that?" Ron waved his hand lazily.

"I believe the type of love-deprived, heart-drooling, puppy-eyed, teddy-stuffer you're talking about is me." Out of nowhere, seemingly, came Arthur Weasley and Molly Weasley. Arthur smiled and put a hand on his hip. "Hello Bill, Ron. Wonderful to see you." Bill stood up and gave him a hug. Molly kissed his cheek and hugged him politely but said nothing. "Ron sent us a message about Fleur. Is the darling alright? Can we see her?" Arthur asked. Molly rolled her eyes; she had never liked the French Fleur very much, but that was a known fact which everyone accepted by now.

Bill peaked into her room, but found her sound asleep in her bed, hands cupped on her stomach. "Also, on a side-note, Ron said there was big news." Arthur took a seat on the bench beside Ron. "So?"

For a moment of suspense, Bill waited. He made his mother and father savor the moment before he released his news. "You guys are getting old you know." Bill began.

"Oh, c'mon, son. Enough with the old jokes. Your mother and I have heard it all, have we not?" Arthur groaned.

"What?" Bill teased. "It's just that you're getting so old, it seems you're just like grandparents now." For a moment the air was filled with untouched confusion. Then, all too suddenly, they leaped into the air, getting the sly release of information from their eldest son.

Surprisingly, it was Molly who spoke first, showing her excitement. "Oh dear Gryffindor, are you sure!" She hugged him. _The upcoming life of another forgives my awful reaction to the death of my brother, eh Mother?_ Bill thought, but he didn't dare say that. The excitement was soon tinted by worry. "What about. . . Fleur. Is she okay? Is the—child. . .? Molly Weasley couldn't bear to say the question looming overhead.

Bill's tongue suddenly tasted bitter. "I—We—don't know. I'm hoping for the best." With his tone, it was obvious he didn't want to discuss that subject anymore.

For the next half an hour, Arthur, Molly, Bill, and Ron debated the names of the child soon to come. "If it's a girl, name her Joanna," Molly argued.

"Molly dear Joanna is an awful name. You tried to name Ginny that remember?" Bill argued.

"Yes, Mother, Joanna is not a name I like. What about Miranda?" Bill asked back for opinions. Everyone shook their heads for a moment, thinking.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Miranda is a nice name. . . I had a teacher in Hogwarts when I was in my second year. Miranda Brownbird, potions substitute teacher." She stopped. "Ah, why don't you name the child after me? Molly J. Weasley the Second." She sighed. Everyone laughed.

"Fleur will never go for that. Ever." Ron chuckled. "Besides, what if it's a boy? I personally like the name Arron. Or Jones. Or Otis."

"Otis?" Molly, Arthur, and Bill said at once. "Who gave you that name? I'm old school, but even I don't like a name _that_ old." Arthur squinted. "Though Otis does have a nice cozy ring to it. . . Otis Weasley. . . eh," Arthur shrugged. "I bet Fleur wouldn't like it. I kind of do now, actually." He whistled carelessly.

A shock passed through Bill's spine. "Speak of Fleur, I'm going to say goodnight and head out. I think maybe she should stay here for the night." Bill stated. Before he went into Fleur's room, he looked back at everyone. "Mother, I'll ask her about Joanna. Father, I'll ask about Otis, and Ron, I'll ask about Arron and Jones, in the morning, Ok?"

Everyone nodded, satisfied.

Bill entered the cold room. Fleur looked so peaceful as she slept. It was like watching an angel, with the moonlight shining through the window on her pale and soft skin. Her breath leaving her chest in puffs of air. She was perfection. Bill kissed her forehead and smiled, saying goodnight. With a flick of his wand, he vanished through the air and through the night.

"I never noticed that you snore so much." The voice was warm and loving and full. . . and familiar. He opened one eye slowly, not sure if he was dreaming. He never thought to see _her._ With her hair like the moon over her shoulders and wispy. She wore a dark blue silk robe and on her delicate wrist was a bright green wristband. "Surprise." She whispered.

"You aren't supposed to be here." Bill's voice quavered. Because of his worry, his shock, and his morning grogginess. "I—Was going to meet you at St. Mungo's. . . what, Fleur?" Bill shook his head full of fiery hair.

"Eh. I came over instead." She shrugged and sat on the bed beside Bill. "They ran some tests and I'm not going to die. Yippee. I can't travel by magical means though and. . . and. . ." Fleur began to say something, but her face crumpled and she sneezed. Once. Twice. Three times and then once again. Four times she sneezed into her elbow. "I can't drink and eat certain foods, but you know. Nothing horrible." She sneezed once more.

"Are you alright? You're sneezing quite much." Bill patted her head.

Sounding stuffy, she said, "Well, I might have a cold, or the flu, but we have other things to worry about. Like _this_ ," she pointed to her stomach, "and a renewal of our vows." Her face lit up.

Bill was shocked. "We're—we're doing that?" He gawked. "I didn't think you do that." He grinned.

"I didn't." Flatly she spoke. "Until I was scared out of my wits. I was so afraid, and it made me think that I want a perfect wedding. The fairytale wedding I'd dreamed of since I was six. A wedding little Gabrielle can come to and burst into tears, knowing she may never be able to top it." She giggled. "Currently, my little sister only remembers being carried away in a fright as Death Eaters took over our betrothal." She said. "People say you only get one first impression. They're wrong. If I have anything to do about it, this will be the wedding people remember." Her eyes shone.

"Uh-huh." Bill gulped. Seeing her here again, normal, had completely floored him. "I really do love you, Fleur." He leaned toward her, stroking her hair.

Fleur smiled tenderly. "I know."

The couple kissed and held hands for a long time. Before long, it had gone from morning to noon, and until Fleur became tired, they were together.

Afterwards, Bill went to the kitchen finding that Fleur had prepared a full meal of homemade pop-tarts, French Toast roll ups, apple cinnamon smoothies, pineapple and blueberries, and bacon. He thanked her under his breath as he dug in. Sipping on his smoothie, he found a yellow legal pad on the chair where Fleur would've sat. Something was written in her small handwriting. . . a title. Bill gasped as he read it.

The title was _Names._ There were two columns: **BOY** and **GIRL.** There was only one name under the "Boy" column.

Hugo.

Bill picked up the pencil and began to fill in the list.


	4. Chapter 4: The News Of The Week

Fleur

"I'm telling you Fleur, you look beautiful." Her young sister, Gabrielle, pulled away a strand of silver hair from her eye. Her older sister was getting her vows renewed in an attempt to have a better wedding—one not crashed by followers of the most powerful Dark Wizard in history. Fleur stroked a hand over her stomach, recently noticeably a bit larger.

"No." Fleur shook her head. "It's too tight. I can barely move." She sighed, and her chest rose and fell. Fleur turned to the assistant, Jane. "Jane, could you find me something maybe something looser? I don't want to make it _so_ obvious." Silently, Jane with her bright red hair that reminded Fleur of her own husband scurried off. Fleur turned to Gabrielle.

The young sister stared. "What?" She cocked her head.

Fleur smiled. "My little sister is so big now. In her fifth year of school, age fifteen! Aww, I love you." She stepped off the podium and hugged her little sis as tight as she could with her now bulging belly.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, even though she hugged Fleur just as warmly. "You know I love you too." She said, releasing her. "And that's why I'm telling you to get that gorgeous dress!" As she spread her arms in exasperation, both of them laughed for a long time. Fleur sighed, climbing back to the podium.

"Eh. Maybe I should. Let's see what Jane has to offer me." Gabrielle sighed, showing her lack of enthusiasm. "I'll call Bill."

"Bill, why?"

"He's with all his brothers at his party. The house is trashed, I tell you, with all those boys." She sighed. Just then, Jane came into sight. But as she was going to speak, Fleur was already on the phone. "Hello, Bill, are you there?" she asked into the phone. Silence. She turned it off and looked towards Jane with an aggravated smile. Jane didn't smile back. Instead, she showed Fleur the most beautiful ball gown dress, with a faint peach colored skirt and thin soft fabric overlapping each other like petals on a flower. The bodice was completely jeweled with diamonds like a sequined plate. The wedding gown had no sleeves, but it only made it even more beautiful.

Gabrielle swallowed. "That—is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. _Incroyable,_ Fleur! You must take it!" Gabrielle insisted. Fleur nodded with enthusiasm.

"I agree very much." She squeaked. Fleur took the dress from Linda with a smile, exchanging her own dress for this new one. A moment later, Fleur arrived. Her moon colored hair and her ivory complexion fitted perfectly with the beautiful shine of the dress. The large ball gown skirt of the dress hid her stomach better than any magic would have been able to do. "I love it," she whispered, gazing at herself in the mirror. I—I—I. . ." The rest of her words went unsaid as she sneezed once. Twice. Three times. She almost lost her balance of the podium and had to steady herself.

" _Netwaye Macwoob_ ," Jane drew her wand, (beech wood, wampus cat hair core, 11 inches, pliable) said a spell in her airy voice to dispel the germs Fleur had just sneezed onto her wonderful wedding dress, and scowled. "I am dearly afraid Mrs. Fleur Delacour and sister," Gabrielle scrunched her face; could the lady at _least_ give her a name? ". . . That you will have to pay full price for this dress whether you liked it or not. I'm sorry." She sounded sincere, which made Fleur and Gabrielle both a little uneasy.

"Jane, we were going to take the dress anyway. We love it. No need to fret—" Fleur sneezed again, followed by a cough. Gabrielle winced.

Everyone knew about Fleur's sickness. The one still to be determined. It could either one of the worst muggle maladies out there, or a simple cold. Fleur sometimes vomited at random, so it was hard to tell if that was just her being regularly ill in her current state or something grimmer.

Bill

Yes, Bill had lied. It was not a celebratory party for guys only and it was requested that Fleur left for three hours. Did he feel bad? Yes. Would he do it over again? No. Today was a day that could either crush him or make his spirit burn brighter.

He had contacted everyone, including Gabrielle, Fleur's little sister. There were two very important dates coming up: the first year anniversary of the end of the Wizarding War on May 2nd and the birth of Bill and Fleur's child sometime in May as well.

In Shell Cottage, there was an excitement in the air. The Weasley family was dropping thousands of gifts on the table, all in red bags and wrapping. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the closest friends of the Weasley family, congratulated Bill and sent their gifts floating to the gift table. Bill was overwhelmed, almost, by the surplus of people carrying around cake and presents for the soon to come child.

The entire idea of the event was for Fleur to feel a little more comfortable when she got home after shopping for the wedding dress, and to lift both Fleur and Bill's spirits if the news they got later into the day was disappointing, though everyone hoped it was not.

A rattle on the doorknob.

Everyone stood still, waiting for Fleur and Gabrielle to walk through the threshold into the arms of excited family members.

Alas, Fleur opened the door and widened her eyes in shock as everyone yelled _surprise_ in the merriest of tones. She quickly put an invisible charm on her wedding dress, but Bill could tell that everyone in the room, including him especially, saw just how beautiful it was, if not exactly what it looked like.

Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley embraced her as she travelled in a dark red coat and black leather boots toward Bill, who was dressed in a nice shirt and jeans. The scars left on the right side of his face after the attack by Fenrir Greyback didn't stop Fleur from planting a kiss on his cheek and hugging him as tight as she could with her bulging stomach. "It's all for you, Fleur. We love you," he looked into her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you." She repeated, and kissed him again. Some of the young girls, like Ginny and Gabrielle, swooned at their affection. Fleur looked around, her eyes watering. She slowly stepped toward the overflowing gift table, picking up a sweet little kitten plush animal; it was snow white and big, blue eyed.

 _From Ginny and the Lovegood family._

Bill and Fleur turned to Ginny who stood beside Luna Lovegood and her distant, ethereal father, Xenophilius, whose crooked nose and pearl white teeth smiled at the couple. "Take a look inside the box." Luna said, her voice airy and sweet as usual. She had on a lovely little dress that was basically just purple flower blossoms all over.

Fleur opened the box, and out came a tiny little kitten, fluffy and cute as a kitten—as it should be. "Woah!" Bill bent down to pick him up from the floor, a squirming little creature. "What should we name him honey?" Fleur tickled his chin as Bill asked the question.

Smiling, Fleur looked at it and decided. "How about Tiny, because he's _so_ small!" She exclaimed, taking him from Bill's arms gazing with glee as the little creature meowed and nuzzled his head in the nook of her wrist. "Tiny needs a nap, Luna. Could you be a dear and put her on our bed? Thank you." Luna took her gratefully and headed away. Fleur turned to Bill.

"I guess this is where we head out now, isn't it?" She asked, a low tone in her voice. Ginny touched Bill's hand, knowing this is where she left, and walked away after. Bill nodded. Fleur grabbed his hand and walked toward the door.

"Everyone will be here waiting for us, you know." Bill reminded her as he climbed into their red truck. Fleur managed a weak smile and a nod, looking deeply into his eyes.

"We have _got_ to exchange this truck for a minivan or something!" She exclaimed, drawing her pale fingers through her hair strung from the moon. Bill smirked. "I mean _honestly_ , what kind of parents would we be to have a baby sitting on my lap while we drive, or heavens no, flying away in the back-whatever-you-call it." She held a hand to her forehead. "Pickup box?"

"Bam! You got it." Bill smiled at his wife. "So, you know, we thought of some names while you and Gabby were gone." Bill slipped a sheet of paper from his pocket,

"Did you?" Fleur scanned the list quietly. _Margot, Louisa, Morgan, Sophie, Molly, Sophia, Aveline, Etta, Elise, Larielle,_ etc. _Emmeric, Atticus, Lincoln, Louis, Walker, Sean, Ethan, Arthur, Corbin._ Fleur laughed softly. She _did_ like the names Margot, Sophia, and Elise for a girl (which she very much wanted) and Louis, Ethan, and Daniel, which was a name not on the list. "What a nice thing to do, Bill! I have to say though, I don't think you'll be getting much of a say in this. Perhaps the middle name, though." She grinned playfully.

Bill laughed with her. "Alright, I chose the middle name Molly-Sophie if it's a girl," he whispered, making the last left turn before reaching the hospital, "and Arthur-Atticus if it's a boy." They both exited the car before the towering building of St. Mungo's.

"Ah!" Fleur exclaimed. "You can't have Molly-Sophie because I was thinking I liked the sound of Sophia Weasley, and it's just not right it it's Sophia Molly- _Sophie_ Weasley, you see? I wouldn't mind Sophia Molly Weasley though. Your Mum is quite nice." Fleur looked as though it hurt just to admit that.

Nonetheless, Bill smiled brighter than the sun, standing just south of the threshold to what Bill ever so little wanted to hear.

"Really? Do you mean it?" He asked. Looking straight at him with her cornflower blue eyes, crisping the air with her smile that radiated only pure perfection, Fleur nodded. Bill grasped her hands and kissed her smoothly. "You're the best." He said.

"I do believe that is true." Fleur jokingly brushed a strand of her nearly white hair off her shoulder. As the white halls of St. Mungo's echoed the muddled words of both Bill, Fleur, and many others both tragically ill and the ones leaving happily healthy. "Are you ready?" Fleur croaked. It didn't take a genius to tell that her heart was beating faster than a roaring Hogwarts Express.

They entered the iron and gold designed elevator, each to their own silent thoughts. As they entered room 3822, Bill and Fleur were more scared and scarcely hopeful than they had ever been in their entire lives.

The last time they felt so afraid and anxious was when death eaters began a massacre at their very own wedding.

However, it wouldn't help to show his angst. Bill placed an arm around her and kissed her cheek.

Fleur

Dr. Tiffanie Roosevelt wiped her sleeve across her bruised cheek. She was a young lady, probably straight out of wizarding school and then the Ministry's Magical Medical Academy. She explained the purplish-red bruise as the injury of a flying bike experiment she was put up to by her eccentric husband, who she called "Hugh."

What really astounded Fleur was the fact that her words were heavily spoken with a _French_ accent. Fleur couldn't help asking one of the nation's sisters a few questions. "Yes!" Tiffanie exclaimed. "I was part of the _Ombrelune_ house, and I'm proud to say!" Fleur knew this was the house of those eccentric and masterful with tools and experiments. Strange though, most doctors fit into either _Bellefeuille_ , the house of the healers, helpers, and kindred spirits, dedicated to helping. Or _Pappillonlisse_ , the house of the researchers and diplomats. How odd.

"I met my dear husband in house Ombrelune. What house were you in?" Tiffany said, grabbing a fan of small, golden fork-shaped objects. Before Fleur could respond though, she was pressing the object against each side of her throat, soft side, thankfully.

Then, with a terrible pinch, the sharp end on the almost-fork clipped some of her flesh and blood from her body. Fleur yelped, grabbing at the plain hospital bedsheet. "Ooh, just a little pinch, Mrs. Weasley." Tiffany reassured. "I'll just do a little bit of this— _Vistickio_ —the bit that was scraped onto the mini fan solidified into a cube. Tiffany levitated it with a swish of her wand onto a piece of silver lined black cloth. It folded over the micro-cube of Fleur's literal flesh and blood, and then dissolved into a silvery texture.

Tiffany picked it up, examining it slowly, then breaking out into a startling smile. She dipped down to hug both parts of the couple. "Congratulations! Fleur," she puckered her lips, her heart pumping, "you only have a simple fading head cold. And she is fine!"

Fleur and Bill's jaws dropped. " _She?_ " They said in unison. "You mean. . . it's a _girl_?" Fleur's eyes were filling with tears of joy now, and Bill was having the same reaction.

This was the best news they could have wished for. Health. A girl. Happiness. All of it was right at their fingertips, and now, they knew they could turn more of their attention to the renewal of their vows.

The air was sprinkled with such joy and relief, it was surprising that the couple didn't giggle and kiss themselves to death. With their foreheads resting against each other's, it was like a new window to freedom—of worry, terror, and all things they had feared.

"Well," Bill began, wiping a tear from his chin, "I think the family will want to hear our news." They both broke out in effortless smiles again, so excited and hysterical, it all seemed like a dream. Still excited beyond belief, Fleur nodded, mouthing the word _yes._

. . . . . .


	5. Chapter 5: May 2nd

Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Gabrielle circled the beautiful gardens in Tortworth Court, examining just days before the wedding the place where Fleur and Bill would have their do-over wedding dinner and dance; inside was where the ceremony would take place.

Fleur brushed her dainty hands against the white flowers, eyeing with great pleasure the grand white chairs and tables arranged around the garden. Now, her stomach was bulging and the small baby growing inside was nearly ready to come out, just hopefully before the wedding.

It was also May 1st, and there was tension and mourning amongst the Wizarding World. There were so many lost. . . Fleur's own brother in law had died May 2nd, and with the wedding on May 4th—the only time the venue was available, Fleur and Bill were questioning their decision to have their joyous event so close to the death of so many, not to mention the brother of the groom and best man.

"Girls, over here." Fleur waved her hand gently to the long, curved bench outside of the gardens. They all turned their heads, Hermione and Gabrielle leading them, Ginny and Luna staying behind to talk excitedly with their brightly colored shades. "Now, I know that it's been a long journey with all of us, with Sophia Weasley, here." Fleur smiled down at her stomach, and she couldn't even see her feet. "My point though, is that you girls have stuck with me through it all, and you all are my very best friends. I love you all." She was beginning to tear up, looking at their bright and hopeful faces. She really _did_ love Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and of course her brilliant sister, Gabrielle.

"We love you so much, Fleur." Ginny reached forwards and touched her hand.

"I know," Fleur smiled brightly. "That's why you all are my _maidens of honor!_ " They all squealed, a mix of confusion and excitement. "I know, I know, it is crazy, but it is not fair to put any of you ahead of the rest, because I'd be a complete mess if not for you girls. Thank you so much." Fleur stepped forward to hug them all—weakly, though.

The comfort their hugs gave her was immense and warm, so much that Fleur didn't want to leave their arms. "Well, the sun is setting," Fleur pointed with disdain to the west, where the blazing sphere of the sun was draining the light from the sky. "I should be home by now. Ginny, come along."

Ginny, Fleur, Bill and Harry were going to have dinner at their house. In the week before the wedding, Bill had made it a goal to speak with friends before early May, which not only was the wedding but, the projected date of Sophia's birth. So far, with four nights left, they had had exciting dinners with Molly and Arthur, Monsieur and Apolline, Vanessa Bruni and Gilbert-Raymond du Bayet, the friends of Fleur from Beauxbatons, whose son Gilbert-Raymond the 2nd turned two-years-old in February.

Fleur had enjoyed them, but she was often drained and the constant swish of the door as it opened to happy faces was choking the life out of her slowly, if planning a wedding while housing another human being wasn't.

Her fiery red hair swung fiercely in the dying wind as Ginny came, angular brown eyes sharp as a tac. She pulled out her wand, as if to apparate, then quickly remembered that Fleur couldn't travel by magic for now and slipped it back into her boot. Refusing to get caught up in the magical amenities she had missed out on in the past nine months, she walked briskly as she could to her car.

"How is Harry doing with auror training?" Fleur started off the conversation. Ginny exhaled deeply.

"Very well, I guess. Since the end of the war, they've been needing them like crazy, since so many were killed during it. That's why Harry's been allowed to train, but also been allowed to train under Horace Weiss and pursue Lucius Malfoy with Neville Longbottom and Blaise Zabini. He likes the work though. He's good at it too. They've got a lead that Lucius might be hiding near Azkaban. . ." Her voice trailed away solemnly.

"Are you alright?" Fleur saw Ginny's eyes watering and parked a few minutes from their home in Forktoad Alley, famous for the old bar built by Richard the Third of England, who was a famed pureblood and Hufflepuff. Funny enough, his wife was Anne Neville.

"Oh, Fleur, no! Harry constantly works and works and works, even nearly a year after the war. He comes home late in the night, tired from work that he can't even saw much about. I love him! But I just feel so unimportant to him. . ." Her face had turned pink. Fleur brushed a hand through her hair and cooed at her kindly.

"Harry loves you, Ginny. I see how he looks at you—I know you matter more than anything to him and he's just trying to protect you and everyone else, which he shouldn't do. He's trying to handle the guilt he feels for all the deaths in the war. You know Harry better than anyone. You know that's all it is. Give him time, that's all." With a kiss on the cheek, Fleur smiled at her as Ginny nodded, sniffling her agreement.

The rest of the trip was brief and silent. Both girls knew that there was nothing they could talk about that wouldn't be awkward, so therefore, they stayed to their own.

When they reached Shell Cottage, though, smiles lit up both of their faces.

Harry was wearing his best suit, with a garnet red tie and hair slicked up in that messy adorable way. Bill also had on a nice pinstriped suit, his fiery hair out to his jaw and his scars looking unnoticeable with his kind brown eyes and the wildflower bouquet in his hands.

Ginny leapt into Harry's arms, and he passionately kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off her feet as she brushed her long fingers in his overwhelmingly greased hair. If Fleur wasn't there to caress Bill's cheek and plant a soft kiss on his lips, she feared Bill would've attacked poor Harry. She'd heard the rumors that Ron had done it to Dean Thomas.

They sat down at the little table beside the window, eating and talking over fresh lemonade and barbeque brisket. Fleur was expecting Bill to talk to Harry about auror training, but he didn't, which made Fleur awfully suspicious.

"I hear that Hermione and Ron are quite happy together, eh?" Bill smiled with Ginny. "You guys think Ron might pop the question soon?" All tensions that were slightly strung in the air disappeared with the mention of everyone's favorite Wizarding couple.

"Oh, I do hope so! I wouldn't mind if any of you proposed on our wedding, to be honest. You're both so lovely, and they're so lovely." Fleur crooned romantically. Harry and Ginny blushed redder than the hair of a Weasley.

Ginny took another sip of her lemonade. "I don't know, actually, but they _did_ move in together. . . a charming little terraced house in York, did you know?" She informed, her breath rattling with the bittersweet liquid down her throat. "Ron's getting a job as the Hogwarts Express driver and cleaner, because little Blysects come in the night and supposedly turn everything they touch into white silk. So the job is more of Hogwarts Express driver, reverse-magicer, and Hermione see-offer, because she'll be returning to school in the Summer. . . as well as Luna, Seamus, and Dean."

Taking a large bite of his barbequed brisket, sent all the way from the Burrow and cooked by his own mother, Bill danced around questions with Ginny and Harry, asking Ginny what profession she was going to take on.

This, brightened Ginny's face a bit.

"I got accepted into the Hollyhead Harpies, Bill! Chaser position!" He squealed. "Believe me, I was going to tell you, I just thought that I should give all the good news on your wedding day, so that you would be unbelievably happy!" Fleur and Bill looked at each other, sympathetic and happy.

The spirits were raised without the use of any, and soon it seemed the night was over. Ginny and Harry disappeared with a swish of their wands to their respectable homes; the Burrow and a one-room flat. As soon as they were gone, Fleur chugged down the lemonade, magically popped popcorn with a swish and twirl of her wand and slid it down her throat.

Before long, a robe and Bill's arms were wrapped around Fleur as she quickly slid into a much-needed rest.

. . . . .

Fleur woke up feeling strange. She was queasy, her head was pounding, and there was something wet beneath her in the sheets of her bed. "Bill," she whispered, frightened but excited.

"Yes, darling," Bill's voice was slurred into the pillow.

Fleur smiled brightly, taking great effort to plant her feet onto the ground. "I think we need to go to the hospital." Almost calmly, she picked a lovely little white midi-dress, waiting for Bill to respond.

"Why? Wait. . . _Oh my goodness gracious Weasley, Fleur._ " He began to weep in his hands. _This_ was the day his brother died. The day his daughter is to be born. _How_ could the world match such days together in the cruelest way? It made him sick to his stomach.

Nonetheless, Fleur was dressed and prepared for the pain and emotions to come, May 2nd or not. Sophia Weasley was meeting the world today, like it or not, because it was the day so many met their end, but among them, Lord Voldemort, and that was a victory.

She came into the hospital screaming like a madwoman, the feeling like needles breaking apart her skin so painful it overwhelmed her and ripped at her chest, like a knife to the heart. As well as Bill supported her and rescued her to the nearest doctors, who took her into a room on the third floor, he had accidentally used magic to bring them there, and that had multiplied the pain by the thousands for Fleur.

In the room of delivery, Bill prayed silently and held Fleur's hand as her face drained of all color and she grunted and screamed in furious pain, all while Dr. Alessandria Bowe commanded her to push harder. "Bill," she breathed, the color in her once brilliant blue eyes dim, "p-promise me," she screamed again in pain. "I want our little one to be named Victorie, after everything we've been through Bill," Fleur seemed as though she wanted to laugh, but that was too much effort. In the distance, almost, like through a tube, he heard Dr. Bowe asking for her to push.

Bill laughed. "You sure, Fleur? I love it, but I want you to be sure." Bill recommended. Fleur rolled her eyes even in her great pain.

"She's coming!" Dr. Bowe hollered, and her words had never brought more joy to the both of them.

"Yes!" Fleur screamed at him. Her howling voice made Bill grin, once again having a small little argument that he never could win. "Victorie Molly Weasley. . ." Then she was silent. Sweat dripped down her forehead to her jaw, and Bill didn't know if she was breathing or not, but her hand was quickly losing warmth. Her chin rested against her shoulder, not moving. A rattled gasp left Bill as he heard the shrill but warm cry of a baby. . .

One of the nurses, with a dark blonde pixie cut and deep grey eyes handed the rosy cheeked baby into Bill's arms. She already had her mother's sharp blue eyes and signs of her moon strung hair. "Victorie." He breathed, brushing his thumb against her cheek. Bill poked his head up when a nurse called urgently while standing over Fleur. His heart dropped. Baby Victorie was taken from a wizard healer who had just come in the door.

"To the nursery," he said as an explanation. "Come. Let the doctors deal with Fleur Weasley for now. This girl is beautiful! What is her name?" He said, leading quietly Bill out of the room as the doctors worked over Fleur, making his heart pound, and possibly hers.

Nonetheless, the man holding his baby made quiet small talk with him until reaching the nursery, and he was forced to answer to this man, Jonah Duffy, a kindly and plump man who wrapped his baby in a blanket and asked him what he did for a living, how long he had known Fleur, and then, an outline of his relationship with Fleur.

He swallowed, tears coming down again. "I love her _so_ much. I would die for her. _Kill_ for her. When I met her, she was the most beautiful, most intelligent, most passionate person I'd ever met. Now, I don't know if I-I can say she 'is' or s-she 'w-was.'" He choked through the words.

Just then, a familiar nurse came up to his side, asking him to come with her. Without hesitation, he ran down back to the room faster than the nurse could keep up with, and the breath was swept from him when he saw his gorgeous Fleur with dozens of empty potion bottles on the nightstand, and a wrap around her frail bicep where an enchanted injection was placed.

It nearly broke him.

"We had to place her in a coma because of the pain she was suffering. We gave her a pain injection to help that, but that didn't work much, and then we sedated her into a coma, so now, when her vitals are stable, we'll bring her out." She stated sympathetically.

"W-When will that be?" Bill began to cry.

"Anywhere from a few hours to a week." He released a sob. His beautiful Fleur was trapped in a sleep and could possibly miss the first week of their child's life. The room she had specially decorated for a child name Sophia that was now _Victorie_ , she would never get to be the first one to dip the sleepy girl into her pink crib. She wouldn't dress her for church, or dates with friends, or checkups if she stayed there for so long. "We're afraid that her vitals aren't very good. If it stays this way for the next few days, she could stay that way for the next few months."

Bill could barely keep himself up. "I-I need to leave." He threw himself out the door and waved his wand around madly, speaking loudly, "Expecto Patronum!" A silvery antelope spew from his wand gracefully, carrying the message that was in his heart to his sister Ginny and brother Ron.

 _Fleur is not doing well. I'm going home to the Burrow with Victorie, our daughter._

Scooping a now cleaned and sleeping Victorie from her small crib. Grabbing his wand, he closed his eyes and transferred himself away to the Burrow.

Home.

His Mother didn't ask what had happened, just cried in joy at her first grandchild, a girl, and such a beautiful one at that. It pained Bill into gulping down all the firewhisky and brown ale to think that his mother didn't care about the state of his bride.

Ginny cared though. Ginny cared enough to bring Harry from his home, and Harry cared enough to bring Ron, who cared enough to bring Hermione, who cared enough to bring Luna, who cared enough to bring Neville, who had foolishly been left out so much.

Together they pulled the drinks from him and focused on the positive: the beauty young Victorie would grow to be. Her personality and talents Bill _and_ Fleur would come to learn. Her Hogwarts house, though Bill argued that Fleur would insist her firstborn child go to Beauxbatons and perhaps that they all move to France. This made everyone laugh.

Neville, though, was invited, and he didn't know what to do, mostly. Quietly, but powerfully, he added, "how proud Fred would be." This shook a tear and more from everyone, who gave their own reactions to this remembrance of two terrible things on one terrible day and that's when the drinks were brought back to the table.

No one spoke for a long time, until Hermione, who had secretely been tossing out her drinks, spoke. "Bill, Fleur wouldn't want you sullying yourself. You should return home. Get sleep. Ron and I will gladly go with you to take care of Victorie, if you need."

Both Weasley brothers sat on edge at her offer, one out of exhausted gratitude and the other from confusion. "You would do that for me, Her-My-Knee?" Bill slurred, his eyes falling short.

Sympathetic, Hermione patted his arm. "Of course. Molly, please get baby Victorie!" There was a distant cry of Molly Weasley singing her agreement from the third or fourth floor of the Weasley home. Hermione lifted up her drunken boyfriend and hopefully brother-in-law (though _that_ she wouldn't tell anyone) and walked them out the door, bidding goodbyes to Harry and Ginny and ignoring Neville.

Ugh, Neville.

By the time they were at Shell Cottage, both boys were passed out either on the sofa or in the bed, and Hermione was left rocking Victoire back to sleep after giving her a bottle of milk and some peach baby food.

She placed her in her pink wooden crib, rocking it gently.

There was a slight pang in her heart when she thought of Fleur and Bill and their relationship, and how much she wanted that kind of strong, sensible, wonderful marriage. She also wanted a child as beautiful as this one, even though she was having a wonderful time looking over Teddy Lupin, the war orphaned son of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. The child was nearly a year old and was an energetic one. Ron was sure his hair color was actually the ginger brown color of his late mother, and his eyes were the gentle black of his father, though his hair often took a neon blue appearance.

Gently as she could, she put a rocking charm on the crib to continue rocking it even after she left the baby to sleep. Then, Hermione did what Hermione did best. She took an interesting book from the Delacour-Weasley family shelf and read herself into a fantasy trance.

She was in such a trance, she didn't notice Bill waking up and leaving through the back door, only one thought in his mind.

 _Fleur._


	6. Chapter 6: Remember Me?

The horror of seeing his brother lifeless in the Great Hall, a place where he'd enjoyed so many great memories, only to have them washed away as he sank to his knees, hopeless upon the sight of Fred Weasley, a young and promising wizard, frankly the second half of his favorite brothers, bloody and stiff and cold in a cot on the ground—it made his heart stop, and it was only Fleur who could bring it back to beat once more.

Now, Bill was alone. His lovely, inspiring, intelligent and brave wife had missed a month of their child's life, and so had he, having run away on the day of her birth, and the death anniversary of Fred to a place to stay in the Three Broomsticks.

Ashamed, Bill was. He'd ignored all contact from his family and friends, and ignored his daughter, Victorie. He was just a shell, now, with his heart still. Without Fleur, there was no one. Nothing, to bring his heart back to beat again.

"Another, Gerald." He had come to know the owner of the pub on a personal base in his four week stay in the Three Broomsticks. The walrus shaped man handed him another ice-cold drink to sullen himself enough so that he could sleep some more in his bed. Fleur was gone and all was lost.

"You know," there was a voice, cunning but awkward and tender, coming from behind him. Bill's eyelids drooped as he struggled to figure out who this mysterious girl was behind him was. "Did I ever tell you the story of Lee Jordan's great uncle Hammond Foster? He was a man who loved himself more than anything in the world. Hammond only had eyes for himself, so he kept a mirror wherever he went and then he made a mistake. He dropped the mirror in the river." The voice belonged to a particularly smart witch.

"In his hopes to find his reflection again, he drowned himself. He died for a love that never existed. Bill," Hermione touched his shoulder. "You're going to kill yourself over a love that _truly_ exists, but the other half hasn't given up." Bill turned around, confused and unwilling to recognize what was happening, what she was saying.

"I—I—Fleur is gone. It's been a month. She hasn't come out of the coma and I've lost hope for my beautiful, beautiful wife. Hermione leave me be." He swallowed, taking another gulp of mead.

Hermione pouted sadly at the eldest Weasley brother. This truly was a sad moment for him, and everyone in the Weasley/Potter arena. Having to care of the wonderful and beautiful little Victorie. She had sprouted her first hairs at one month old. They were silver, like Fleur's. She was. . . marvelous and darling.

Bill turned around to look at the girl with chocolate brown eyes and unruly hair. Hermione spoke again. "The doctors have said that Fleur is ready to wake up in an hour. That she should avoid harsh sunlight and hot temperatures, and keep on the potions for a week, but she'll be fine, Bill. "

Bill stood, blinking twice. "Fleur?"

"Yes." Hermione pitied him. "Come, please." She was on the brink of tears. The brave, brilliant man, the oldest brother of her beloved, a sunken, dwindling piece of his true personality. For the past week she had wondered if she was too late to find him. If he had been damaged beyond repair.

And while it was true he was damaged, it was not without repair.

. . . . .

Ron gripped Bill's hand as they walked into Fleur's room in St. Mungo's. Bill was used to the delicate, dainty, and soft hand of Fleur in his palm as they walked home from a long day of furniture picking or job interviewing, not the rough and shaking hand of Ron's. The entire time, Bill fantasized about his wife alive and healthy, seeing their child for the first time, who was being held by Bill, gazing with her ice blue eyes of her mother at her father, who's resemblance was impeccable with her strong jaw and angled like nose of royalty.

He was so excited, that he had simply forgotten all of his mistakes of leaving young Victorie, but everytime he took another step down that hall, he remembered everything that happened not only on the most recent May 2nd, but the former.

Suddenly, he was pulled back, just several steps from his wife. Ron had stopped him, tugged on his jacket and looked around carefully. "Bill," his voice was dry, "I-I need to ask you something." He seemed worried as his eyebrows drew together.

"Please, can it wait until after I see Fleur again?" Bill pleaded. He was desperate.

Ron shook his head. That's how Bill knew it was serious. When he couldn't even summon the ability to say the words, the eldest brother knew he should listen to the youngest brother.

Sighing, he let Ron speak. "Yes, well, you know Hermione. You've known Hermione. . . I've known Hermione. . . her parents know Hermione. . ."

"Is there a point to this?"

"Yes. In fact, I was, um, well, going to p-propose to her. After the wedding." He swallowed, looking like he expected punishment.

He was wrong.

Bill gave Ron the biggest hug he had given anyone since Charlie, his best man, at his wedding to Fleur. "Oh my goodness, brother! Congratulations! Fleur is going to love that news!" He exclaimed, pulling away to pat his astonished brother on the back.

For whatever reason, Ron still looked petrified. "You aren't mad?' He scratched his head. "With so much happening, I thought you'd think I was being a selfish lazy sod." Ron admitted. "Truth be told, I've wanted to marry Hermione since sixth year. I just. . . I can't breathe without her. I cannot stand to be away from her for over a day. I don't see anything else to do without myself than marry her." He shrugged.

"You can't wait." Bill smiled.

"Huh?"

Bill smirked again. "She means everything to you. Don't wait for me. Go. Find her. _Propose_ to Hermione Granger." Ron's eyes widened in pleased surprise before racing off down the stairs. He could've used magic to appear at her side, but then again Ron did love her as much as Bill loved Fleur. He would sacrifice the ten saved steps for his girl.

Now, with his brother away, Bill was alone and shaking as he opened the door slowly, afraid to see a grey sheet over Fleur's body, a stout nurse telling him that a remaining Voldemort supporter switched the potions from healing potion to drowsiness draught, and accidentally taking too much and falling asleep in a way that she could not be woken.

The thought almost made him drop his baby by the nursery and leave again, assuring himself never to come back.

But it was the lasting memory of the beautiful and strong young woman his wife was and that the last of the Voldemort survivors wouldn't even care about the wife of the boring and eldest Weasley. While he hated to admit it, it would make more sense for them to have a last chance at assassination of Hermione, or Ron, or Harry, or Luna, or really anyone that was just a tad more important than them.

Banishing those thoughts, he pushed the door open completely and gasped as his eyes blurred.

"Bill. . ."

A tear fell from his eye.

She had been reading a book. It was small and dull and she hated it but now, now Bill was here. And, and her little child, who smiled elegantly and rubbed at her mother's cheeks without explaining, as babies often do.

Bill placed Victorie into a nurse's arms, weeping and bending down, propping Fleur up in his arms and embracing her, kissing her just because he finally could. "Oh, Fleur. I love you. I love you so, so much." His fingers slid like a knife through butter through her silver-blonde hair.

"I love you." Fleur responded, shaking as she buried her head in Bill's chest. Bill had never seen Fleur sob. Angry, yes. Furious, yes. Overjoyed, yes. Even frightened, yes. But never had she been so utterly overcome that she succumbed to the strongest form of emotion.

Tears.

Bill took their beautiful baby from the nurse again. "Look at her, Fleur. She's marvelous, isn't she?" Bill smoothed down the baby's hairs. She was so perfect it was hard to look at her without feeling guilty for witnessing such a sight. Bill almost immediately feared the boys she would face in her Hogwarts years.

Fleur looked at the child and held her to her chest, wiping tears from her eyes. "My beautiful, beautiful, Victorie. I love you as well. Always." She smiled back at Bill, happier than she had ever been in her entire lifetime. She realized, with a joyous and tearful glance at her child and husband, that she had never wanted anything more.

"The wedding, Fleur," Bill remembered at once. "We cannot have it anymore. There are more important things." He kissed her forehead. "Oh and I must tell you about Ron and—h"

"Oh, Bill," Fleur smiled. "We're already married, and I love it. I love our daughter and you and we don't need to do anything. Now, about Ron and Hermione. . ."

Then, Ron and Hermione rushed in, surprising everyone and causing a bit of a fuss. There was, however, a noticeable gold and ruby ring, glimmering on Hermione's middle finger, and the two were smiling bright and wide.

"Yes," Fleur breathed. "I do believe that Ron and Hermione have something to tell us."

Everyone smiled, finally glad to say that the everlasting trail of pain and delirium and suspense was over for Bill and and Fleur. They had everything. Ron and Hermione tightened their hands together and sighed, their smiles never to be washed away as they leaned over and began to tell a story.

 **The End**

* * *

It's OK. . . I'm not crying because I've finally finished. OK, yes, yes I am. Thank you so much for reading Bill and Fleur to the not quite end. . . yes, you read right. I'm excited to announce the final chapter of my story will the epilogue. And vote in the reviews about what you want it to be about.

1\. The Wedding of Ron and Hermione

2\. The send off at Platform Nine and Three Quarters for Victorie, age eleven, meeting Teddy Lupin

3\. Bill and Fleur coming home at last together, and Fleur putting Victorie in her crib.

A bit of author bias for you: I'd like to write option number 1, LOL. Also, review, please! I've become quite a fan of the reviews, so please review kindly and vote.

Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7: Epilogue

**This is the epilogue. Oh, how somber. I wish it wasn't ending, almost, but this is my first story and I just want it to be short and sweet. Also, I started writing epilogue option number one, but it was weird and too much focus was on Ron and Hermione, especially for a story directly about Fleur and Bill, so I wrote this and I like it much better. Thank you to 37Penship, XxAoi BaraxX, LitEnthused, OncerLoyal96, trygger, blazinglizard09, and Siobhyykayy! Review and favorite, and I hope you like this too!**

 **. . . . .**

How smart their little girl was, now. Age eleven and already a poised little girl, with the mind of her mother and her silvery fair looks too. But she had her father's magical ability, very good with defense against the dark arts. Victorie, the gorgeous little girl who was attracting stares from parents and students alike, turned her face bitter from the eyes on her. "Papa, what if they will only want to be my friends for my looks! What if I get teased!" She had a heavy French accent, and also spoke French fluently. "It might help, with the fact that you are the teacher, I suppose. . ." She looked at her Papa with wide blue eyes.

Bill had been the defense against the dark arts teacher for a very long time now. Well, eleven years. The day after Victorie was born, he got his act together, found a job, and continued to be the great father his own father was to him. "You will never get teased, Victorie. And if you do, just like we practiced." Bill winked. Fleur did not approve of the use of violence, especially ever since her days of having her sister nearly die in the Triwizard Tournament, having her husband nearly die during the first battle of the second Wizarding War, and having everyone nearly die at her wedding. It was quite the darkly comical situation.

Bill would wink his eye at Victorie, because in secret, he had taught her the protego defense spell and taught her the tickling hex, a mostly harmless hex, but coming from Victorie, something to look out for. "Oh, Bill! It is Remus and Tonk's child. Teddy boy." Fleur pointed towards the tall second year, with his Hufflepuff friends Tod and Gale. It was as if the boy could sense his name being spoken, and he dodged his friends and ran over to Victorie.

The boy of the late Remus and Nymphadora was a charming, handsome, and hilarious boy who could change his looks, and gave himself colorful hair that usually stayed either bubblegum pink, sunshine yellow, or ocean blue. It seemed that whenever he was unusually happy, his hair would go blue against his will. When he felt crammed to study for a test, his hair turned yellow, the color of his Hufflepuff house. And pink. . . everyone knew what that was for.

"Vic!" He threw an arm around Victorie, and the pretty girl blushed. "First year of Hogwarts is always the best. You find friends on the train, you eat food on the train, you tell stories on the train. Everyone is just _nice_ on the train. Especially during first year because it's all so new." The kid spoke fast.

"I—Uh—I guess. Do they have butterbeer?" Victorie swiped a long lock of moon colored hair from her cheek. "I. . . like butterbeer."

Teddy laughed sweetly. "They have butterbeer. And pumpkin juice. And sugar mice. And licorice flies. And chocolate wands, and Fred Weasley is even giving out Skiving Snackboxes for a dollar, so you'll be all set." He assured. While Fleur smiled over how her little girl was bonding with her firstborn girl, Bill was tightening his grip around eight-year-old Dominique Weasley's hand, in case there any other older, handsome boys ready to talk to her. And just for complete safety, he looked back at Louis, the small little six-year-old sitting on the ground and drawing small bears.

"Hey," he spontaneously smiled at Dominique, forcing a wide eyed gasp from Bill at the child's sheer nerve. "You want to see the train?" He asked. At once, Bill thought to resist the boy from taking both of his daughters from him, to 'see the train.' Ugh, this boy better not have _any relationship with either of them ever._ But instead of speaking to the young boy, he was beaten to the point.

"Nope. Pops told me all about the train and I want to see it for myself in three years. Because in three years I'll be eleven, and I'll make the best Gryffindor girl you're ever going to see!" She promised. Bill felt an overwhelming sense of pride for his family, and especially to his youngest girl.

Teddy seemed taken aback, that awful, snooty little boy, Bill thought. The Hogwarts train on Platform 93/4 chimed, ready to leave whether Victorie was on it or not. A thousand memories of that train flooded onto Bill, his first time going on, having Charlie hanging off his leg to go with him, begging him to write him back home. Long before there was a Percy, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and even Fred. . . it was simple, but he had never liked simple that much anyway.

The young boy laughed and grabbed his trunk once more. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I think Vic and I are going to be friends," he stated. "Goodbye!" He called along with Victorie, his arm still careless around her shoulders.

For a moment, Bill thought that the boy's parents should keep a closer look on him, but he remembered there was no parents for Teddy. They were dead. Just as his brother was and countless others.

Beginning to feel saddened on one the best days of his daughters life, he cleansed the thought from his mind and kissed Fleur's cheek happily as Victorie smiled and waved as she drifted toward greatness, on the Hogwarts Express.


End file.
